out the bookshelf. There were a few children’s storybooks, but not many. Most of the books were titles I didn’t read until high school. Or college. Huck Finn. To Kill a Mockingbird. Moby Dick.
So ridiculous.
“All clean,” Hazel says as they walk back into the bedroom. Ryder’s pajamas are white and silk? I’m definitely adding new pajamas to my shopping list.
He climbs into bed and eyes me warily. I smile, hoping our progress at dinner will continue through the rest of the night. But he doesn’t smile back.
Fantastic.
“Ryder, would you like me to read you a story?
He shakes his head and buries himself under the blanket.
“Bedtime can be a struggle,” Hazel says softly.
She grabs a Dr. Seuss book off the nightstand and settles herself on the bed with him. Ryder peeks out from under the cover and snuggles close to her chest.
Not wanting to intrude, I slowly walk out of the room, closing the door behind me.
Now what do I do?
We didn’t really discuss my hours. Am I on call all night?
I need to ask Hazel.
It’s just a little after eight, and I’m considering going to my room and finding my own book when I hear Mr. Healey call my name from the living room. Taking a deep breath, I walk down the hallway and find him on the sofa, scrolling through his phone.
“How’s he doing?” he asks.
Mr. Healey slides over to make room. The gesture surprises me. I mean, there are plenty of other places to sit in this museum they call a living room. Still, I accept his invitation and join him on the couch.
“He seems okay. Hazel says bedtime can be tough.”
He nods and places his phone on the end table before turning his attention back to me.
“So, tell me, how do you feel about your first day?”
“I feel . . . I’m not sure, to be honest.”
“You’re still here.”
“I am. That’s a good sign, right?”
His tired eyes gaze into mine, and I momentarily forget how to breathe. He really is quite handsome, with his dark hair and chiseled features. Dana never mentioned how good looking her brother was, and I make a mental note to kill her . . . again . . . the next time I see her.
“A very good sign,” he says softly, and I swear I can hear something in his voice. Something hopeful. Tired, but hopeful. “You really were wonderful with him at dinner. I felt so stupid.”
“Oh, Mr. Healey, I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s not your fault. I just needed to be reminded that Ryder’s mother is . . . well, she’s gone. Her rules don’t apply anymore. I’m afraid it’s going to be a hard habit to break. I may need you to remind me again in the future.”
“But I don’t want to overstep. If there are specific rules you want enforced, I’ll need you to tell me what they are.”
He nods thoughtfully. “I think we should work on some new rules. Except for bedtime. We should leave that one alone.”
“I agree. Eight o’clock seems reasonable to me.”
“But otherwise, I’d like your help in establishing some new rules. We need them. Ryder needs them.”
“Absolutely. I’m happy to help.”
His face softens. “Olivia, I want to apologize. When I interviewed you today, I was unnecessarily rude.”
“You were just testing me. I knew that.”
Mr. Healey seems surprised, but pleased, that I read him so easily.
“Well, you passed with flying colors. My son actually ate his dinner without a temper tantrum. Tonight was the first peaceful dinner we’ve had in months. I have you to thank for that.”
“You’re welcome.”
I feel my face flush. I’m not used to so much praise. It’s actually starting to make me feel uncomfortable. This is my job. Why is he so surprised that I’m doing it?
But I know the answer. He’s surprised I’m doing well because so many failed before me.
“Mr. Healey, I was wondering if I could do some shopping for Ryder?”
“Shopping?”
“I’d like to buy some age appropriate toys and books. And something to sleep in besides silk pajamas.”
Mr. Healey smiles. “Of course. And that reminds me. Be right back.”
He heads down the hallway toward his study. When he returns, he hands me a platinum credit card.
“For whatever you or Ryder may need.”
The man’s giving me a credit card. It even has my name on it.
Do all nannies get a credit card?
“How? I mean—”
“I want you to have everything you need, Olivia. In addition to your salary, this card is yours. Decorate your room however you like. Buy whatever